


Reach Out and Touch

by PastelKnights



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alpha Neil, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Andreil, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mentions of Drake, Nesting, Omega Andrew, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-09-29 02:05:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17194466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelKnights/pseuds/PastelKnights
Summary: Of all things, he was an Omega, because the universe was out to get him. It hated him and he hated it just as much. Most of all, he hated Alphas, the ones that slunk around, sniffing out and preying on Omegas about to go into heat, ones that didn’t know their own warning signs, ones that didn’t pay attention. He had vowed, long ago, he’d never submit to another Alpha.Then came the problem.





	1. The problem

**Author's Note:**

> Give me more Omega Andrew, you cowards.

Over the years, he’d become accustomed to the heats, to the constant ache and burning in his throat, that traveled down and lit him on fire from the inside, coiling down in his belly. Over the years, he’d learned how to recognize the symptoms of an oncoming heat, he could catch the shift in his moods, the longing for touch. He knew when to separate himself from the others, to retreat in on himself and take care of it, as clinically as possible. 

It wasn’t easy, not when the wrong touch could completely send him over, spiraling into memories that he’d rather forget. When his hands slipped and the heat disappeared, leaving him cold while his body still shivered and ached, his mind ran a thousand miles an hour. It was a very thin rope he walked across when his heat came along. And he hated it. He hated his nature.  
Of all things, he was an Omega, because the universe was out to get him. It hated him and he hated it just as much. Most of all, he hated Alphas, the ones that slunk around, sniffing out and preying on Omegas about to go into heat, ones that didn’t know their own warning signs, ones that didn’t pay attention. He had vowed, long ago, he’d never submit to another Alpha.  
Then came the problem. The problem being a spitfire of a man, with a personality as fiery as his hair, one that wouldn’t back down, would speak his mind. But that man, Neil, was different from the rest, he’d stop when a no was muttered, when Andrew pushed him away. He respected his boundaries.This was new. 

Andrew fell to his knees and blew him in the shower, he’d kissed him hard and jerked him off until he was red in the face and breathless, shaking and begging for more. He never took though. Neil would go into rut, he’d lock himself away for days at a time, much like Andrew. Days before, he’d get possessive, clingy and his temper would be shorter than normal. Andrew wasn’t sure how he felt about wanting to see Neil in rut, to pin him to the bed and ride him, to make him stay where he was, not allowing him to touch. Would he do that? Or would he shatter and flip him over and take what his instincts wanted? 

Neil wouldn’t, Andrew knew, but the Alpha, he wasn’t so sure. 

Andrew’s wariness didn’t stop him from imagining it though, today. He’d been holed up in one of the tower’s heat rooms, face pressed against the hard mattress, hand slowly sliding over his cock, slick running down his thighs. If Neil’s name fell past his lips as he jerked into his hand, screwing his eyes shut, panting as he pushed himself closer towards that sweet release. It’d been a long time since he had imagined someone when he was doing this. 

A unwanted whine slipped past Andrew’s lips as he reached out for more lube, messily pouring it onto his hand before sliding it up and down his cock, the image of Neil below him, hair a wild mess, cheeks red, chest falling and rising rapidly as Andrew slowly sucked him off. He missed the feeling of Neil’s cock in his mouth, heavy and warm, the feeling of Neil’s hips below his hands, struggling to stay put, to listen so nicely for Andrew. Neil was good to him -- no, for him. Andrew came with a gasp, jerking forward as he thought of Neil’s pretty face, covered in his cum, Andrew’s scent all over him. He desperately wanted that. 

Hastily, Andrew wiped himself off with a hand towel, collapsing on the bed, trying to catch his breath as he stared up at the ceiling. What was he going to do? He swore he would never submit to another Alpha, Neil included. But perhaps, maybe, his Alpha would submit to him.


	2. Year one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn’t care about exy, protecting his own name, reputation. It was entertaining, seeing the frustration in their eyes when he blocked their shots, when he heard the frustrated groans of “He’s an Omega, you’re better than him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has no chronological order.  
> Mentions of Drake, prejudice against omegas ect. I don’t know shit about tags, let me know.

When news had broke that David Wymack, coach of the failing division one exy team known for their broken and trouble making players was signing on an Omega, all hell seemed to break loose. It was an expected reaction from the public, from the Alphas that ran the various boards and leagues , from nosy tabloid journalists to professional reporters on Exy networks, all criticized Wymack’s decision to sign an Omega. 

They said he was too soft. That he wouldn’t make it on the court. That his teammates wouldn’t respect him, that they’d take him into the locker room and —

They were wrong, about most of it. Andrew made sure of that. He was more than his dynamic. They didn’t know how he’d fought tooth and nail to get where he was today, he wouldn’t let them. He hid behind the mask of neutrality, letting the half truths fall from his lips when reporters got too close. Those truths were always followed with steel pressing against soft skin, a threat unsaid, but well received. 

His reputation had grown, the public viewed him as cold, unapproachable. Good. Let them. The articles were one of the few sources of entertainment for him. They said he was crazy, that he belonged on the medication that he so desperately wanted off, that he shouldn’t be on the court, because he was medicated, because he was an Omega. He wanted to know which one they really thought. He laughed with Nicky when he read that he was the first of a generation, the top of the iceberg, the start for Omegas in professional exy. 

“They think I’m going pro. “ He'd laugh. Nicky never joined in. 

He’d laugh when they criticized him too, when he took breaks as needed when his heat came. They called him unreliable, a burden rather than an asset. He couldn’t disagree with them, but the games after his heat, were where he shut down the goal. 

His teammates, the rest of the Foxes, were tolerable, on good days. They had made the mistake in the beginning, to baby him, to ask about his heat schedule to know when they’d be down a player, when they’d have to be on a look out for symptoms. 

He had laughed in their faces, steel had danced across his fingers and pressed against a fleshy stomach, one wrong move and they’d be bleeding out. “It’s none of your concern” And he left. 

The Foxes weren’t as bad as the others in the league, where there were more prejudices, slurs thrown at Andrew, falling on seemingly deaf ears, whistles and comments about how he should be face first in a mattress coming from fellow players. The comments grew worse as they grew more and more frustrated when he wouldn’t let them score easily. 

He didn’t care about exy, protecting his own name, reputation. It was entertaining, seeing the frustration in their eyes when he blocked their shots, when he heard the frustrated groans of “He’s an Omega, you’re better than him.” As they ran back to their lines. 

He was proving to them, and him. That he was more than his dynamic. 

The relentless comments, from fellow players, to teammates and journalists and reporters, didn’t stop, not completely. He doubted they ever would. Fine by him. They slowed though, when Kevin Day signed onto the team as assistant coach, leaving the Ravens for good. 

Finally the heat was off of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m enjoying this more than I should.


	3. Cinnamon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More unorganized chaos for ya'll.

He was infatuated. He had been since the moment he'd laid eyes on Neil's file, reading through the very limited information that Millport's coach had sent to Wymack. He remembered watching the first video, of Neil playing, like he had everything and nothing to lose at the same time. He tried hard to push the team forward, to have them rally around him for a much needed win. At the same time, he tried to slink into the background, averting his eyes and shying away from other players when they got too close. He was quite an enigma, not yet, but he was odd enough to hold Andrew's attention.

He surprised himself when he agreed to go to Millport to scout and sign Neil, the look on Wymack's face was almost priceless. If he cared to give it worth. He played his willingness to go off with a brief comment about how he wouldn't let Kevin go without him. It'd be breaking their deal. Andrew didn't break his promises, but that didn't mean he didn't do things for himself either. 

He wouldn't lie to himself when he thought about Neil, how he looked. He was almost his type, if Andrew would decide on a type. He might not like others touching him, but he could appreciate someone's aesthetics and build. He needed  _something_ to get him through his heats. Neil's looks weren't the only things that hooked Andrew on, but his scent, muted and warm, smelling faintly of cinnamon, it made Andrew's throat go dry. Never before had he wanted to bury his face in someones neck and lose himself there. 

The thought disgusted him.   
Just like Neil's smart mouth had annoyed him.  
And how when the racquet in Andrew's hands collided with Neil's stomach, pushing a gasp past Neil's lips, sent a wave of heat and want through Andrew.   
Disgusting. 

They had signed Neil onto the Foxes, though the younger didn't look pleased about it. Andrew would have just a short amount of time to sort himself out before Neil came along to campus. Things were messy to say the least the first few weeks. And for some time after that too. Neil was a problem. A big one. 

Neil Josten, substitute striker for the Palmetto State Foxes was multilingual, irritating, short tempered and most importantly, hiding a secret. It was driving Andrew mad, not knowing what he was hiding from him. It was driving Andrew mad that he couldn't figure him out or get him out of his head. Normally after a few days he'd be bored, but here he was, weeks later, still unable to get the scent of cinnamon away from him. 

It was warm and inviting, almost comforting and everything Andrew didn't know he wanted, which surprised him. He still didn't like surprises. What made the matter worse was the person who the scent was attached to. He couldn't stand to be in a room with Andrew longer than absolutely necessary, it seemed. He didn't like telling the truth, clearly, he was a bad liar. It pissed Andrew off to no end. 

Time flew by and disaster after disaster occurred, Kathy's television show, Seth's passing, Thanksgiving and finally the hospital. With each passing day, the scent of cinnamon got more and more comforting and each passing day it pissed Andrew off more and more. He was finally free of it while he was going through his programs, though those were not the circumstances he wanted in order to get rid of the scent. 

He was off his medication, for the first time in years, he was leaving and going back to Palmetto and the world was still it's ever grey and boring self. Things were fine and he was free of those bright blue eyes and sharp tongue and warm scent. He was free because Neil Josten, as much of a distraction he was, wasn't real. Andrew had simply grown bored and the drugs had created entertainment for him. 

Things were fine until he walked in and cinnamon flooded his senses. 

Shit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if ya'll want any special scene / whatever hmu because i want to write more but my brain is not helpful.


	4. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warm  
> Soft  
> Safe  
> Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back baby.

_Warm._

_Soft._  

 _Safe._  

_Mine._

 

_Mine mine mine mine_

 

Fingers curled into the plush fabric beneath him, his face now burying against the many pillows he’d accumulated within the past forty eight hours. It was soft and warm and _all his._ He didn’t care whose bed was left with no pillows or blankets. Nor did he care that there were many Foxes looking for their missing hoodies.

 

They were his now.

They always had been, they just didn’t know it quite yet.

 

Andrew let out a sigh as he shifted, pulling the blanket further up his shoulders, his free hand playing with the string on the hoodie of a particularly annoying striker. He could hear the shifting of nervous feet outside the door, quiet murmurs, words he couldn’t make out.

 

He didn’t really want to hear them right now.

He groaned and opted for pulling the comforter over his head as he curled closer to his stolen items. He buried his nose in one of his treasures and took a deep breath.

 

Cinnamon overwhelmed him.

 

_Fuck._

 

The door creaked open and tension sat heavy on Andrew’s shoulders.

The room had fallen silent for a brief moment.

Andrew’s pulse picked up and he dared to peak a tired eye over the blanket.

 

_Mine mine mine._

_Come here, you’re mine._

 

There stood the absolute last and first person he wanted to see, stupid blue eyes staring down at him, a look on his face like he was going to say something stupid. But then again, everything that comes out of Neil’s mouth is stupid.

 

Neil thought better of it, apparently. He stepped forward and crouched next to the pile of stolen items and Andrew’s hands tightened beneath the blanket.

“You know you could have asked.” Neil said.

 

Andrew huffed and he reached out, snatching up one of those strong, scarred hands and pulled the redhead down into the pile, not saying anything as he threw the blanket over him too.

 

_Warm._

_Soft._

_Safe._

_Mine._

 

He knew he’d have to return his finds when his heat came around, but for now he was going to keep them. He shifted and let his back press up against Neil’s chest, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the other could feel his heart racing. He didn’t say anything though. Perhaps he wasn’t a complete idiot.

 

Slowly, Andrew let go of the numbered sweater to lead Neil’s hand to slink around his waist. It took few minutes before the tension left Andrew’s shoulders, and  any concern he had melted away.

 

_Mine._

_Mine._

**_Mine._ **

**Author's Note:**

> More to come? Maybe


End file.
